It was a long and difficult struggle, but Simon Fogelberg had finally become a financial success. Success brought with it new pressures, however, and Fogelberg, under advice from his doctor, began jogging several miles a day in the neighborhood of his New York apartment.
One morning, after a particularly strenuous workout, Fogelberg grew faint and collapsed outside the posh and restricted New York Athletic Club. The doorman studiously ignored Fogelberg's repeated requests for a glass of water and a place to sit.
"This club is for members only," the doorman haughtily announced.
Over the next few months, Fogelberg was obsessed by the New York Athletic Club and its restrictive policies. "Business is great," he announced to his partner one day, "and so I am taking off some time to improve myself."
The next day, Fogelberg set off for Oxford University to be tutored in the niceties of social graces and manners. In time, his accent became that of a country gentleman. His clothes were tailored on London's Savile Row. He became something of an educated mand. And, he officially changed his name to Chauncey Fumpelroy III.
One day, almost 2 years after he had left, Fogelberg/Fumpelrot returned to New York. He got off the plane and took a taxi straight to the New York Athletic Club. He set down his baggage and, dressed to the teeth, approached the clerk.
"Good afternoon," he said. "I would like to apply for admission to this grand institution."
"Certainly sir," said the clerk, taking out a printed form. "And may I ask your name?"
"Chauncey Fumpelroy the Third."
"Very good Mr. Fumpelroy. And may I ask your occupation?"
"I deal in stocks and bonds."
"Very good sir," said the clerk once more. "And I hope you won't mind sir, but it is our policy to ask about your religion as well."
"Religion?" said Fumpelroy. "I'm of the goyish persuasion."
======================
A Catholic boy was bragging to his Jewish friend. "My priest knows more than your rabbi."
"Of course he does," said the Jewish boy. "You tell him everything."
=======================
After the war, a funeral procession was moving slowly down a narrow street on the Lower East Side. Their route took them past the offices of the last Yiddish newspaper left in the city. One of the editors, looking out the window saw the funeral procession passing by and called out to his colleague, "Hey Moishe, print one less!"
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Once upon a time a powerful Emperor of the Rising Sun advertised for a new Chief Samurai Warrior. After a year, only three applied for the job: a Japanese, a Chinese and a Jewish Samurai.
Demonstrate your skills!" commanded the Emperor.
The Japanese samurai stepped forward, opened a tiny box and released a fly. He drew his samurai sword and * Swish! * the fly fell to the floor, neatly divided in two!
"What a wonderful feat!" said the Emperor. "Now Number Two Samurai, show me what you can do."
The Chinese samurai smiled confidently, stepped forward, opened a tiny box, releasing a fly. He drew his samurai sword and *Swish!* *Swish! * The fly fell to the floor neatly quartered!
"Ah-h-h, that is skill!" nodded the Emperor. "How are you going to top that, Number three Samurai?"
Number Three Samurai stepped forward, opened a tiny box releasing a fly, drew his samurai sword and *Swooooosh!* flourished his sword so mightily that a gust of wind blew through the room and the fly let out a high pitched sound. But the fly was still alive and buzzing around!
In disappointment, the Emperor said, "What kind of skill is that? The fly isn't even dead."
"Dead, schmead," replied the Jewish Samurai. "Dead is easy. Now, circumcision .....THAT takes skill!"
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I am five feet, three inches tall and pleasingly plump. After I had a minor accident, my mother, Rebecca, accompanied me to the emergency room. The triage nurse asked for my height and weight, and I blurted out, "Five-foot-eight and 125 pounds."
While the nurse pondered over this information, my mother leaned over to me. "Sarah, my love," she said, "From your lips to GOd's ears, but for now, remember, this is NOT the Internet."
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Henny Youngman remarked once that, in his will, he is leaving his body to Julia Roberts. "If she can't wait, she can have it now," he added.
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Your marriage is in trouble if your wife says, "You're only interested in one thing," and you can't remember what it is. Milton Berle
======================== 80 year old Sam Goldberg was a witness in a burglary case. The defense lawyer asked Sam, "Did you see my client commit this burglary?"
"Yes," said Sam, "I saw him plainly take the goods."
The lawyer asks Sam again, "Sam, this happened at night. Are you sure you saw my client commit this crime?"
"Yes," says Sam, "I saw him do it."
Then the lawyer asks Sam, "Sam listen, you are 80 years old and your eye sight probably is bad. Just how far can you see at night?"
Sam says, "I can see the moon, how far is that?"
====================
Old Jacob Rabinowitz, a raging hypochondriac, was convinced that the pain on his left side was appendicitis. Mrs Rabinowitz explained that the appendix is on the right. "So, aha! THAT's why it hurts to much," said Jacob. "My appendix is on the wrong side!"
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Irving took Harry to a celebratory dinner at a really posh restaurant.
They walked in, were ushered to a table by a formally dressed maitre d', and sat down at a table on which were displayed the finest china and crystal. Taking the damask napkin from the solid silver napkin ring, Harry unfolded it, put it around his neck and proceeded to tie a knot in the back.
Staring at him, the maitre d' said, between gritted teeth, "Sir, will you be having a shave or a haircut?"
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